morning after
by sugar free vanilla
Summary: "She desperately wants to go back - decline Hunt's offer of sharing a cab. Of sharing a bed." Post-The Limey. Oneshot.


**Still in this funk where everything is super-angsty. Sorry. Writing unhappy fics at God-forsaken hours is becoming a trend.**

**This is AU after the Limey. Castle is ready to make nice when he makes an unwelcome discovery.**

* * *

Beckett arrives at work atrociously early - the bullpen is empty, the only sounds the soft buzz of the overhead lighting and sharp tap of her heels as she strides to her desk, drops into her chair with her head in her hands.

Last night has survived the sunrise in the form of a vicious hangover. There's a thumping in her head that won't go away, in spite of the pain killers she's taken. She's sick to her stomach too, though that's for a whole different reason.

_Shit._

Kate wants to cry but she's too dehydrated to summon tears; presses the heels of her hands against her eyes, cold skin a relief against the burning lids, blocking out the too-bright precinct.

She's not slept at all and it shows, concealer doing nothing to hide the heavy circles of exhaustion under her tired eyes.

In short, she's a wreck.

A wreck and -

_Oh God, Kate. You're an idiot. Stupid, stupid woman._

Her punishing thoughts are nothing against the regret that seeps through her bones, settling heavily upon her, within her. She wishes she'd never picked up her phone, gone out for that drink (which turned into another and another and _another). _Desperately wants to go back - decline Hunt's offer of sharing a cab. Of sharing a bed.

Castle wants _fun and uncomplicated_. Not her. So why does guilt bite at her, cruel teeth sinking into the deepest, most vulnerable parts of her - why does she feel like she just cheated on him?

_Because you're his. Because you've been his for longer than you even know._

She's wearing a turtleneck although the day is already shaping up to be scorchingly hot - the sun barely up yet already strong enough to have had her sweating beneath her jumper on her way into the precinct.

She's beginning to hate the sunshine. Nothing good comes of it. Lying in a cemetery with a bullet in her chest it blazed above her. Three long summers without _him, _missing him as murder rates soared with the temperatures, as she sat alone on the front porch of her father's cabin - waiting, just _waiting _for somebody to come for her again. For them to be successful this time.

It's necessary though, the high necked sweater, hides the marks on her throat, her collar bone. Where Hunt marked her as he pressed her solidly against his hotel room's wall. She'd retched when she'd seen them, arriving home disheveled and crying in the small hours of the morning.

She shudders as she recalls the way she cried as Hunt lay over her in that bad, him taking her guttural sobs as encouragement. When she clawed at his back instead of pushing him away. Wrapped her legs around him as he kissed her neck.

With a sigh that's more akin to weeping, she pulls the paperwork she put aside last night in front of her and finds her composure in the tedious task of filling in the white pages.

By the time other cops start filling the bullpen, she's put herself together so well that not even Espo and Ryan realise anything's amiss - at least not anymore so than they have been since Castle started pulling away from her.

And then the man himself steps through the elevator doors - and he's holding two cups of coffee. Elation flutters through her chest in a jolt of joy before it twists, becoming wretched shame.

Castle smiles at her from across the bull pen and it's like the tension that's stretched tautly between them since the bombing case never existed.

"Hey, Beckett." He sets the drink in front of her as he swings into his chair. "Paperwork day?"

"Yeah. Wasn't expecting you in today." Kate manages to twitch her lips up, a weak echo of his grin.

"Oh. I could - go? If you want." Something flashes over his face as he offers and his whole person dims, deflates. He makes to stand but she shoots out her hand, closes her fingers over his wrist.

"No - stay? Please." He's instantly lighter, dropping back into his seat as relief breaks over her face, leaving a real smile in it's wake. "Could do with the company."

"Yeah. I'll just - be here then." It's awkward between them and she _hates _that but it's a hell of a lot better than the reproachful glares she's been on the receiving end of for the last week.

"So," she can't help the question from escaping, rushing from her lips before she can contain it. "How was your date?"

"It was nice. We grabbed a bite and then went to see 21 Jump Street. Good film - I think we should give that sort of police work a go."

Kate ducks her head, smiles with her tongue between her teeth. "Not sure you'd be able to pass for a high school student, _old man._" She's taking a risk with her teasing, unsure how Castle will react to their normal banter when things between them are anything but _normal._ "And in case you forgot - you aren't really a police officer."

"Touche, Detective." Blue eyes twinkle at her from behind a cup of coffee and things are so how they should be that she can't stop grinning at him as he drinks.

At least, until the elevator doors slide open again and every trace of joy falls away because _what the hell is he doing here?_

Detective Inspector Colin Hunt strides into the bullpen, exuding smug satisfaction as he heads directly to her desk.

"Kate," He bends down, presses a kiss to her cheek; too close to her lips to be innocent. Eyes darting to Castle's face, Beckett recoils as she can practically _see _the wave of hostility rolling of off him. "You were gone before I woke up - I wanted to say thank you for last night."

"Drinks with a friend is no task - you've nothing to be grateful for." Her lips press tight, strain etched into her posture as she nods his way.

"Au contraire, Detective - you and I both know that I do. But you left this in my hotel room _after_-" Hunt lets the implication hang as he drops her badge to the desk. The clatter vibrates through her skull, the dull ache becoming a thrashing crescendo. "So I thought I'd drop it by on my way to the airport. If you're ever in England, Kate."

She's not even listening to him at this point, attention riveted to her partner. Her still, unmoving partner who's gazing through her with ice burning cold in his eyes. Blue irises flick to hers for the briefest of seconds; she can read the devastation in them, accusation and grief as clear as day in the moment their gazes connect.

And then he's pushing to his feet, studiously avoiding her searching stare. "Well, Detectives - I best be going." He nods to Hunt and the effort it takes is palpable. A vein pulses at his jaw, another twitching at his temple.

"Until tomorrow, Castle?" She doesn't hide the desperation from the question, allows it to be voiced as the plea it is.

"Goodbye, Beckett."

And he's gone, just like that - Hunt eyes her warily as she lurches wildly to her feet, pushing past him to catch Castle before he can slip into the elevator.

"Castle, I'm so sorry, I-"

"For what, Detective? We're all grown ups here. Adults have needs." His tone is pleasant, jovial even. She'd be fooled if it weren't for the thread of anger stringing through the words, the hint of gravel in his voice.

She wants to hit him almost as much as she yearns for him to kiss her, hold her flush against his body and tell her that they're gonna be okay.

"Castle, please - you know why I'm apologising. You and I-"

He cuts her off again. "You and me? We aren't _together_ Beckett."

_No, but we could be. I just need a little more time; if you'd just wait a while longer. Please._

"I know, but…"

"Thanks for everything Beckett. The NYPD did me a real favour letting me consult."

"Did- Castle… you aren't _leaving _are you? Not properly?"

"I've done more than enough research to finish Frozen Heat. I've got deadlines to meet so…"

Panic claws up from the pit of her stomach, scratching at her lungs and burning in her throat to fly from her lips as she looks for reassurance. She clutches at his arm, tight enough that he can't shake her off. "But you'll come back right? For the next book."

"I don't think there'll be a _next book._"

It knocks the wind out of her, startling a soft cry of objection from the deepest part of her. Because he's done with Nikki and - shit - it feels like he's saying that he's done with her factual counterpart too.

The elevator doors open and he steps in, casting her one last look over his shoulder as she stands frozen, unable to move. "See you around, Detective."

* * *

She doesn't.


End file.
